


The President

by leadernovaandthemacabre



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Caribbean setting, Clitoris Worship, College AU, Cunnilingus, Explicit Consent, F/F, Fingering, Pidge has just turned legal, feminist tidbits, gay disaster Pidge, giggly sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leadernovaandthemacabre/pseuds/leadernovaandthemacabre
Summary: When Sam Holt found work in the archipelago’s bid to join the space race, he got the opportunity to bring his family with him. Perpetual sunlight, sweet birds and glassy seas make it challenging for young Katie to explain why she misses home and the friends she left there.Lonely and troubled, she retires to the library one summer and makes a surprising friend there.
Relationships: Allura/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	The President

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading the manga Virgin Empire when I suddenly realized: what a minute, have I never written a F/F story?!

“You look like a lobster.”

“I feel like a lobster.”

Matt threw his surfboard under his arm anyway and ran through the kitchen’s back door before his father could stop him. Sam crowed from the stoop that he had to be back before night this time or at least call if he was overnighting at his new friend’s place.

Pidge watched the back of her father’s head with a tendril of doubt and judgement. Did he really think that those boys were only Matt’s _friends?_ They were discrete about it, but Pidge had caught them touching in the way teenage boys only touch girls. The revelation had surprised her at first.

 _He’s just like me,_ she thought vaguely.

Pidge sat on the stoop next to her father’s legs and pulled on her sneakers.

Sam sighed, “You’re leaving too?”

“I want to do my homework at the library.”

“Do you have your phone?”

“Yes, dad.”

“Wait a minute, let me get you some spending cash.”

“Dad, I’m fine,” and she pulled up a few waded up bills from her pocket. The numbers on them were bigger than she was used to, but this was enough for lunch, a drink, and at worst a taxi home. “I won’t be gone long.”

“You have your laptop?”

“ _Yes.”_

“Take this and take the taxi downtown.”

“Dad, the library’s walking distance away!”

“Don’t argue with me, Katherine,” he pointed at her nose. “Mr. Blade told me yesterday that there are punks stealing phones and laptops again. Please. For my sake?” And he held it aloft.

She put on her most put upon expression as she abided.

“Thank you, KitKat.”

When she got to the bottom of the hill where the taxis passed, she threw a look over her shoulder. Her father was still in the doorway watching her. She deemed him a mixture of clever and paranoid while she flagged a driver down.

It took less than five minutes to reach the library steps. She’d stared out the window and ignored the blaring dancehall for that time wondering at the shelves of bright pink or bright green or overflowered facades of houses that followed the rise and fall of the hills. She recognized Matt calling at someone’s gate on the way down and a pulse of envy accompanied it. She justified her father’s caution by thinking, _Matt’s not travelling with a laptop, that’s why._

The library was as hot as everywhere else. Pidge messaged her friends back home that it was a perpetual summer here and that the coldest it every got was when the “Christmas breeze” brought a little rain. They’d cooed their jealousy, but she missed the oscillations through the seasons.

She took up residence at an empty long table sandwiched between two tall shelves and a long window of wooden louvres. The glare bothered her. The moment she sat down to set up her computer she got up again to angle the sunlight streaming through away from her.

Paradise, she thought. They failed to mention how _bright_ it was on the brochure.

“What are you complaining about?” Matt asked her yesterday. “People would kill to be able to live in a place like this. The food’s amazing, the beach is right there, and the growing economy’s a boon for people with your skillset.”

“I just miss home,” she didn’t mean to whine. “Don’t _you?”_

Matt frowned in sympathy, but it was clear in his eyes that he didn’t feel the same.

Pidge sighed and tied her hair up. Her nape was sweaty.

“Is this seat taken?”

Pidge glanced up. Her heart twitched. Standing at the head of the table she’d accosted was a stunning black woman, tall and slender, with a heart shaped face and glossy pink lips. She wore blue hanging earrings and her smile was polite. She dressed sporty, and held herself like one of the students from one of those prestigious all girls’ schools.

Pidge’s half-formed reply was wiped clean when she accidently dropped her gaze below the girl’s chin to her breasts.

 _She’s not wearing a bra!_ They were magnificent.

The girl tilted her head, “Hello?”

“Yes!” Pidge jerked. She shook her head, “I mean _no_ , no-one’s sitting there.”

“Is it okay if I do? I promise not to make too much noise.”

“S-sure, sure,” Pidge nodded. The girl _beamed_ at her—there was something mature and knowing in the way she smiled too—and Pidge jerked back to her laptop before she was caught.

True to her word, she was silent. The first time Pidge looked over the brim of her laptop was to make sure she was still there.

 _Gosh, she’s so pretty._ The thought came out unbidden. She had her hair in box braids and they ran down to her waist. She wore them white, which was stunning against her black skin. She was dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and cute frilly skirt that caught above her thighs. It couldn’t be a uniform, Pidge thought, because in this country the girls’ uniform skirts were all below the knee. It was to model them into ladies, a local principal said, so that they knew how to dress when they went into the wider world. Pidge wondered about her old school’s policy about wearing whatever the heck you wanted.

She glanced up and must have caught Pidge staring in her peripheral vision, because their eyes met. She smiled. Pidge jumped and went back to her essay. She could barely get through the introduction.

She finally settled on several quotes from three articles when the girl returned from the bathroom. “Excuse me,” she said.

Pidge jerked and flushed.

“Sorry,” she laughed, “I know I promised not to disturb you but would you like one?”

“One…?”

She was holding out a stick of gum. The package said it was minty.

“It helps me focus to chew something,” she chimed. “My father says it’s the ADHD, my brother accuses me of having an oral fixation.”

Pidge helplessly laughed into her elbow. The girl winked at her, and Pidge took a stick. “Thank you.”

“I’m Allura by the way.”

“Katie,” Pidge wanted to ask about the etymology of her name. Other nationals had anglophone names as a pleasant holdover from colonization, but hers sounded completely otherworldly. “Where’s your name from?”

Allura laughed. Instead of returning to her seat three chairs down and on the opposite side of the table, she sat directly beside Pidge. Pidge turned away from her laptop: she needed a break anyway.

“My father had the brilliant idea that giving me a good name would imbue me with the properties of that name for the rest of my life.”

“Oh. Is that a family tradition?”

“Ha. _No._ If we were Thai, maybe. I hear they have a lovely tradition around naming their kids. My father just wanted our names to stand out on resumes.”

Allura’s name was easy to figure out. “You father wanted you to be an _enticing_ choice, I guess?”

Allura’s smile widened. “More or less. I’ve no idea what he had in mind for my brother though.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lance.”

“Like the weapon?”

“Possibly?”

Pidge laughed, “Sounds like you got the better end of the stick!”

“Lance doesn’t think so, God bless him,” she chuckled.

Pidge politely noted that Allura might be Christian.

“My other brother—I have two—is named Bandor, but he and his sister—she’s not related to me but she’s my sister too, her name is Romelle—were named after characters from a fantasy novel—”

The urge to return to writing her essay came to mind, but Pidge pushed it aside. She had six weeks left to finish her homework, but only a few precious hours to cultivate a friendship with a pretty girl. Within moments, the flavour of peppermint was irrevocably ensnared with the bronze bells of Allura’s laughter.

Allura attended one of those prestigious all girl’s institutions and was president of the tennis club. They had training for three hours three days a week over summer. When school started back it’d be pushed back to two days a week.

“We have a record to uphold! Our school’s won nationals three years in a row! I’m hoping we can make it another three—oh my goodness, I am so sorry.”

Pidge blinked, snapped out of the story. “What?”

“I’ve just been going on and on and on about myself while you have work to do!” She pressed a hand to Pidge’s shoulder and Pidge ignored the _zing!_ that fired up from the site of contact to the back of her brain. “Terribly sorry. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Huh? No!”

Allura paused. She was half out of the chair.

“I mean, it’s fine. I’m practically done anyway. I uh, it’s been fun hearing about you. I haven’t made much friends since I came, so this has been really fun.”

Allura resumed her seat. Her voice was soft, “How long since you’ve been here?”

“Only a few months.”

“You came here from America?”

“Yeah. Chasing the oil money.”

“Mm, your father’s an engineer?”

“No, he builds rockets!”

“ _Space_ rockets?!”

“Yeah!”

“That’s incredible!”

“Yeah.” Pidge loved showing off her father’s vocation ever since she was two. In her experience, if there was something that any classroom of strangers could be interested in, it was space and human’s pursuit of understanding it. “I’m thinking of studying astrophysics too.”

“You must have a brilliant mind.”

Pidge smirked and adjusted her glasses, “ _Well._ I don’t mean to toot my own horn but… _toot!”_

Allura giggled. She sat up straight suddenly. “I think we can be good friends, Katie.”

Pidge grinned and felt a little more at ease at long last. “Call me Pidge,” and she offered her hand awkwardly, and Allura took it in both of hers with a sunny smile.

-

“If you’re starting college in September, why do you have summer homework?”

They were walking on the seawall. Allura trot above on the wall itself. It was as broad as a sidewalk and everyone was doing it, though a part of Pidge was fearful she might fall and get washed away in the red seaweed choked churn below.

Pidge twisted to and fro the white stick that up to a moment ago sported a cloud of cotton candy. “It’s a course to meet the requirements for the college. Technically I’m already accepted, but because I don’t have the usual qualifications I’m doing a short course to prove eligibility.”

“The usual qualifications?”

“I was homeschooled.”

“Oh!” A new light came to Allura’s eyes. “Sounds…cumbersome.”

“It’s easy,” she shrugged.

“And you’ll be studying astrophysics?”

“Computer science,” she replied with a casual shake of her head.

Allura grinned broadly. “You’re _brilliant,_ Pidge.”

Pidge ducked her head. She’d blame it on sunburn if Allura mentioned she was changing colour again. She found it fascinating apparently that Pidge’s skin shifted according to her mood. It didn’t occur to Pidge before now to wonder if people as dark as Allura couldn’t see themselves blush.

“Ooh, look!” Allura hopped down from the wall. “Shave ice! Come come come, I’ll buy you a cone.”

Pidge yelped as she was dragged away. “What is shaved ice?!”

It was what she might have expected. In a paper cone a man poured compact ice splintered off from a giant slab he had on his cart. Onto it he dropped something that was red and something that was blue and something that was yellow. To Pidge’s eyes it looked suspicious, but Allura beamed and chomped on hers.

“It tastes like syrup and water,” Pidge complained.

Allura giggled, “Yup!”

Pidge took another bite and another. It was plain, but between the salt of the breeze and the good company, it was quaint.

Allura was dolled up today. She wore a summer dress and had her braids up in two. Every so often a man twice their age and missing a tooth would call out to her in one derogatory fashion or another, and Allura chose who to reply to and who to ignore.

Pidge asked, “Doesn’t it annoy you?”

“What?”

“Them! _Men.”_

She gave a wistful sigh. “If I wasted my time getting irritated at men who think I’m at their behest I’d never spend a day outside happy.”

Pidge quarreled, “Nice words, but is it really that easy in practice?”

Allura shrugged. She side-eyed Pidge. “Does that have anything to do with why you dress…androgynously?”

“You can say I look like a boy, I don’t mind.”

“Do you like looking like a boy?”

“I like some of the liberties it comes with.”

“Such as not getting hit on by men who have grey on their chests?”

“And potbellies.”

Allura made an unladylike guffaw. When their shaved ice cones were empty, they wandered around the park adjacent to the seawall looking for a garbage bin, then for a standing pipe to wash the stickiness from their hands. To dry them, Allura told Pidge to reach her hands to the sun like a flower.

“The sun stings.”

“That’s how you know it’s working!”

Their hands were dry in moments.

On the way to the bus stop, Allura reached for Pidge’s hand and Pidge took it. She was scared someone might call out to them and damn them as lesbians—she was warned about intolerance before she made landfall—but no-one did. Was it because Pidge looked like a boy or was it because they both looked like affectionate girls? Pidge glanced up.

Allura smiled and looked ahead while guiding Pidge over the breaks in the sidewalk. The sunlight caught her hair and made the braids translucent. She was humming Lianne las Havas’ _Green and Gold._

Six days later Pidge called from the foyer, “I’m going out with Allura, I’ll be back before dark!”

Colleen peeked up from her laptop. “Do you have everything you need? Would you like me to pick you up after?”

“I’m fine, mom. You weren’t this protective back home.”

“Well,” and she slumped a little, “we were with the evil we knew back home.”

Pidge stared at her mother for a moment wondering if it was worth it to poke that hornet’s nest, but she fastened her sneakers and left.

Allura was already waiting for her at the entrance to a private beach. It was fairly cheap to pay to get in, but to get everything else one had to pay again and again and again. It was no wonder most preferred the public beach down the stretch, but that came with its own ball of risks. That this beach had security was one of the only reasons Sam let Pidge go.

“Meanwhile Matt’s out getting his feet cut on broken glass in some mangrove choked beach an hour’s drive from here each week but we don’t hear _him_ being cordoned off to a private beach.”

“Your parents care for you. That’s admirable.”

“I love my folks,” Pidge sighed, “but Matt’s offered a different sort of freedom that I am.”

“Boys aren’t targeted the way girls are.”

“Catcalling you mean?”

“At the very least.”

The moved on to lighter topics over food. A crow came by and while Pidge was admiring its plumage it plucked a fry from her tray. Allura burst out laughing, “Now you know why it was so fat!”

Pidge grumbled.

“Hey, let’s go to the tidepools.”

“They’re tidepools here?”

Allura offered her hand and Pidge slipped hers into it. Pidge admired her. She admired her humor and the academic language that leaked into their casual conversations. While her back was turned, it was also easy to admire the shape her conservative swimsuit betrayed. Allura wore a crochet dress to her shins but pretty as the pattern was it didn’t do much to preserve her modesty. When the wind picked up her nipples pebbled and Pidge reflexively turned away to watch a baby crab instead.

“Hold out your hand.”

“Why?”

“Hold out your hand!”

“ _Why?”_

Allura laughed, “Don’t you trust me?”

Pidge made up her face. “No,” she said, but she held out her hands and watched Allura’s conniving smile and the arm that was holding something behind her back. “It’s not a horseshoe crab or something, is it?”

“A what?”

“They’re like…they’re like…”

Allura placed a sea urchin in her palms. Pidge screamed and danced in place. Allura laughed.

 _“Not funny!”_ Pidge protested. She stretched her arms as far away from her body as possible. “Ew ew ew ew _ew it’s moving!”_

“Well yes, you didn’t think sea urchins were like coral, did you?”

“Why doesn’t it sting?” Fascination took over revulsion. Up close, it’s warbling black limbs looked kind of cute in a kawaii-meets-Lovecraftian-horror sort of way.

“Because it’s not broken,” Allura gracefully took the creature back and placed it in the soft sandy bed of the shallows she had plucked it from. “I was hoping to find a starfish.”

“To subject me to the same fate?”

Allura smiled.

“Y’know, you just _act_ nice. You’re actually devious.”

“Untrue,” Allura straightened her back and lengthened her neck so that she looked proper. “Who’s to say I can’t be both at the same time?”

Pidge cackled.

Allura threw her arm around Pidge’s shoulders and guided them to a shack for oversweet slurpies. Against the salt on her shriveled up lips it was perfectly sweet. It calmed her.

Allura sat beside her rubbing something nice smelling on her shins. On her hip and upper thigh were stretch marks, tendrils of lightning snaking down her flesh, and it reminded Pidge of the sunlight refracted through the sea onto the sand.

“I’m going out!” Pidge called into the house three days later.

This time it was Matt who saw her off. He wore a stinky expression and got in her way as she tied on her shoes. “You’ve been going out a lot.”

“You go out more than me.”

“Yeah and you _never_ go out. You hate the outdoors. You hate it here.”

Pidge didn’t reply.

“What, made a new friend?”

“God shut _up!”_ And she turned and pushed at him so that he’d go back to the living room, but his new pastime being a beach boy was no joke: throwing him wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

“Have you something to hide, _Katherine?”_

“You’re bringing full names into this?! You don’t want to bring full names into this. _Do you really want to bring full names into this?”_

A knock came on the front door. Matt chimed, “I’ll get it!” and he side-stepped Pidge with efficiency that the dork from Arizona _never_ would have cultivated. “Oh, _hello,”_ he sang when the door opened.

Pidge picked herself off the floor with a grimace.

“Hello,” a neutral, cheery and familiar voice replied. “My name’s Allura. Is Katie home?”

“No, she just stepped out. But I’m available—”

“ _Gross_ , Matt!” Pidge shoved past him. “Stop hitting on Allura! Get lost!”

“Can you blame me for trying to make the acquaintance of a beautiful woman?”

“I’m flattered,” Allura returned politely, but Pidge sensed an undercurrent of something mature and sensual there, “but I’m sorry to say that men aren’t in my purview.”

Matt’s eyes widened a little. “You mean you’re—!”

“ _Goodbye, Matt!”_ she shoved at him and this time he went. She slammed the door in his face and caught Allura’s wrist and ran her down the hill before Matt could make a counterattack.

Pidge puffed when they were safe, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, that was fun. Your brother’s charming.”

_“Ugh.”_

Allura laughed, “You and he look a lot alike.”

“Our mom likes to joke that we’re twins born five years apart.”

“ _Fascinating!”_

Pidge chuckled and adjusted her backpack and tried to equate that she was breathless and flushed because she was unfit, not because she’d learned Allura’s orientation. _I have a chance!_ A voice in the back of her mind squealed, but then she remembered that she was wearing a shirt three sizes too big and was often mistaken for a child and wondered if she and her _androgyny_ were in Allura’s purview.

Allura took her hand, ignorant of Pidge’s inner turmoil, and they began the long walk to her school.

Pidge asked, “Your schoolmates won’t mind that you’re bringing in a total outsider for practice?”

“Psh,” Allura shrugged. “There’s a rule against it yes but we’ve been breaking that rule since summer began.”

“As president, how have you dealt with that?”

“It was _my idea_ as president!”

“Oh my god Allura’s a rebel.”

Allura squealed in delight. “The girls will love you.”

At the school it was quiet apart from the mosquitoes and a faraway lawnmower. The tennis courts were in a set of three and crisscrossed with lines that belonged to basketball and volleyball and netball. The court was already studded with bright green balls when Allura arrived, and there were girls chanting as they ran around the track. Another set were going through serves, and another pair gossiped as they picked up discarded balls. Here more than anywhere else Pidge saw a diversity in their faces.

“You’re late,” someone accused as Allura stepped through the gate. She had honey bright skin and bright blonde hair, but Pidge could tell it was bleached. Her grin was broad and she had big breasts and big thighs.

“I had to pick up something.”

“This her? Hi,” she stretched her hand out. “I’m Romelle.”

“Katie.”

“Oh _you’re_ Katie! Allura’s talked a lot about you.”

Allura shoved Romelle’s shoulder. “Go take a lap.”

“I warmed up before you got here!”

“Penalty for teasing your captain.”

Romelle made a face and went away, but she didn’t go run either. Allura went to extend her apologies to the girls and introduce Pidge. Pidge suffered through warmup which was an hour long, and she was lying on the asphalt recuperating the same time the vice-captain called for everyone to line-up and practice backhand drills.

“Oh my god,” Pidge gasped. “I’ve met my quota.”

Romelle laughed and it was boyish and boisterous. “How often do you exercise?”

“Once.”

“A week? A month?”

“A lifetime.”

Romelle laughed. Someone called her name. “Here, drink that. You can pick up balls until you’re ready to try something new. I can show you how to backhand if you don’t know how already.”

Pidge accepted the drink. “I don’t know _anything.”_

Romelle ravished her hair and bound off with a wink.

It wasn’t long until Allura loitered close. “She hasn’t been harassing you, has she?”

“Romelle?” Pidge casually took in the long swath of dark skin glittering with perspiration. Even when she was sweating she still carried the lingering smell of coconut and ocean. “No, she’s been really nice. She offered to show me how to backhand.”

“Doesn’t waste time, does she.”

“What?”

“She’s a predator. Half the first years are in love with her.”

Pidge jumped.

“She’s a good friend but a shitty partner, I’d exercise caution if I were you.”

Pidge chuckled, “Are you really warning me off your sister?”

“Maybe I just want you for myself.”

Pidge’s legs, which were already jelly, wiggled. Was that…was she flirting— _no,_ she wasn’t—she was being friendly. …wasn’t she?

Allura extended her hand, “I’ll walk you through the basics, if I haven’t totally scared you off the sport.”

“What about— _woah!”_

Allura grasped Pidge’s waist to stabilize her and released her just as quickly. Pidge felt like she was on air. On air and chicken legs. She followed Allura wordlessly and laughed when Allura laughed, “Your nose is so _pink!”_

Allura gave her a racket and walked her through basic motions. Weight on the balls of the feet, she said, knees apart, bend at the waist. Pidge’s feet felt like led.

“It’ll feel awkward doing backhand the first time,” Allura stood behind Pidge and clasped her hand over hers. Pidge went very very still when she felt breasts squish to her back. “Imagine a line like this,” she moved Pidge’s arm, “and imagine the ball going _through_ the racket, like it’s a hoop. Always complete the motion.”

“Mhmf.”

“I’ll hit a ball to you. Remember to let it bounce once—this isn’t volleyball.”

Pidge grumbled, “Will you never let me live that down?”

“Ha! _No._ I’ve never seen someone so panicked! But I think the funniest moments are when you don’t move at all.”

“The ball is too far away!”

“Yes yes. I’ll aim it at you.”

“Don’t aim it _at_ me!”

Allura laughed and abruptly squeezed Pidge. The hug was companionable and delighted, but all Pidge could think of was how strong Allura was. Her muscles were deceitful under the smooth stretch of skin.

Allura pressed her lips to Pidge’s neck.

Pidge went still and looked across the courts, but they went unnoticed. In fine everyone looked much like they did: as much as people were training seriously, girls were dorking around and jumping on each other too.

“Have I been reading you right? Or…did I just do irreparable damage?”

Pidge swallowed. “What do you mean?”

Allura squeezed her a little harder, with gravity. “I like you. I really like you, Katie. You’re smart and funny and it’s easy to be myself around you.” She lifted her arms such that her shins lifted Pidge’s breasts a little. It was a challenge to breathe. “And I think I’ve seen you looking at me like you’re interested too.”

Pidge twisted just enough that their eyes met. The afternoon sun was redder than the midday sun. It looked good on the lips she briefly kissed. She turned away just as quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

Allura hugged her tighter. “Come to my house.”

“Huh!?”

“Sleepover. There’s nothing wrong with two girlfriends having a sleepover, right?”

Girlfriends. Pidge swallowed. She nodded. She felt lips on her neck again. “I’m glad.”

And then Allura went on the other side of the net and aimed a tennis ball at her shoulder.

-

When Pidge went home she looked up how girls have sex.

Matt passed by her open door, “Yeash, you look intense.”

 _“Homework!”_ She blurted in panic.

Matt went on without fanfare. “I’m glad I finished school.”

Pidge chomped at her peppermint gum.

-

She was annoyed when her father came to meet Allura’s father, but was pleased when they hit it off. It leant a layer of innocence to all the implied depravity they’d be getting up to behind closed doors. Allura’s father, Alfor Lyon, was a sweet gentleman who doted on his children and any other children that ended up in his yard. With a shake of her hand he told Pidge to make herself at home, which Pidge replied to with the utmost politeness. She only went so far as to echo Allura when she got them ginger beers from the fridge. Her little brother Lance spared Pidge a distracted “yo” on his way out to play ball with the boys, and when Sam went Alfor went with him.

In the abruptly quiet house Allura said, “It’s somewhat disappointing how we’re not even suspected, eh?”

Pidge breathed out a laugh. “I dunno if I could handle the alternative.”

Allura took her in and smiled. “Nervous?”

“Yeah. I get the feeling I’m gonna fuck this up and then you’ll never want to see me again—”

“Wot?! No!”

“—because what if I leave bitemarks on your bits?! And—”

Allura’s peal of laughter sliced through Pidge’s tirade. “You’re fine,” and she slipped out of her seat to stand beside Pidge. She lured Pidge to rest her cheek against her breast. “We’re doing this for fun. And if you want to do something else—I have Scrabble and Guess Who and Monopoly—”

Pidge snorted.

Ice successfully broken, Allura tipped Pidge’s chin up and pressed their lips together full and sweet.

-

The bedroom was dim. Allura’s tongue weaved through her lips and Pidge felt her smile.

“Peppermint?” she whispered in amusement.

Pidge’s heart thumped. “I…you got me hooked on it.”

Allura kissed each cheek immediately beneath each eye. “That’s flattering.” She kissed Pidge on the mouth before she could inquire into that. Her box braids tickled Pidge’s skin but she daren’t move way. Allura pulled back on her own. As she did, her fingers flicked on the buckle of Pidge’s denim suspenders. The sound coupled with the abrupt lack of tension in her shoulders was like a bullet to the heart.

“If it’s alright,” Allura said just as Pidge looked a little panicked, “can I see you?”

Pidge swallowed. She was open mouthed. “You first.”

Allura’s smile was darling. She was amused, but a little wary too, and she hooked her fingers under her shirt and pulled up. Allura had the body that only showed up in magazines. The gentle rolls of her belly were lined in stretch marks that looked like the latticework of sunlight in the beach’s shallows. Her dark aerola were ringed with bumps that made Pidge insanely curious, so curious that she forgot to be embarrassed before she clasped one. Allura’s reaction, a barely audible gasp, was what brought her back to herself.

“Sorry,” she said and pulled away.

“No,” Allura caught her wrist and lured her forward again.

Pidge swallowed. Allura pet her cheek and then her hair affectionately, and Pidge lifted here second hand to Allura’s breast. The skin of her breasts was warm and they were of a marvelous weight and give. They were far more fantastic that Pidge’s stunted mosquito bites. She ran her thumb over a nipple and mumbled as much.

Allura hummed, “I think it’s beautiful that breasts come in so many different shapes and sizes. If all women had the same breasts, I think the world would be a very boring place indeed.”

“You mean that small and weird shaped breasts make you appreciate bigger, shapely ones better?”

“No,” and she laughed a little and nuzzled Pidge’s hair. It smelled of salt and sunlight. “I mean that bodies have so much variety. You’re looking at the argument through the cishet patriarchal lens.”

Pidge hummed distractedly. When Allura leaned forward, it put her breasts closer to Pidge’s face. She closed the gap between them and pressed her nose to Allura’s chest. She heard Allura’s heartbeat thumping steady and then her laughter and then Allura held her there and shook her breasts. Pidge broke out laughing.

While Allura pulled her fingers through Pidge’s hair, Pidge draught up the courage to lick a nipple.

“Hm,” Allura praised. “Do that again.”

Pidge did it once more, bolder now that she had permission, and when tasting the texture of her nipple wasn’t enough she enclosed her entire mouth over it. Allura sighed deeply. Her hand shifted to the back of Pidge’s head which tilted back as Allura straddled her. Pidge wrapped one arm around Allura’s waist and the other cupped her left breast.

“Move your tongue and suck a little harder,” Allura requested.

Pidge abided. When Allura sighed and her fingers flexed in Pidge’s hair, Pidge was certain she flushed. While she toyed with Allura’s nipples the hand she’d thrown around her waist slid down down until she was cupping her thigh just below her skirt. She ran her hand up smoothly to the crease where hip met thigh and tummy, and ran a single finger parallel to the lacey edge of the panty she found there.

Allura’s body gave an involuntary jolt.

Pidge pulled back to apologize. “Ticklish?”

“No,” Allura sighed. She met her eyes and at last she didn’t look totally composed. “Your touch is just…it’s lovely. Touch me more.”

“Lie on your back.”

Allura’s smile turned fiendish. She grabbed Pidge’s shoulder and flipped them in one go. Pidge yelped but landed on the gentle give of Allura’s laughing breasts. Then they were laughing. Pidge got to her knees.

Now it was her turn to loom over Allura.

Allura cocked her shoulder and put her pinky to the corner of her pouting lips. “Be _gentle_ with me,” she whispered in a kiddish coquettish voice.

“Pfft,” Pidge replied. They deteriorated into laughter again.

Pidge undid the second clasp of her dungarees and wiggled until it was at her hips. She was tiny and her belly was flat and she felt like a kid beside the buxom hills of her lover’s body. But if the way Allura’s eyes widened and her lips tightened were any indication, the way how Pidge say herself was not matched by the way Allura saw her.

Pidge descended to Allura’s belly and kissed her. It was hard under the sweet layer of fat. She was self-conscious about it, but Pidge adored it. She only hope with each kiss and each lave of her tongue Allura believed her.

She painted kisses up her body until she met her breasts again. Allura lifted a knee and Pidge drew slow nonsense patterns on the outside of her thigh. Through the window a family of parakeets made nesting ground out of the breadfruit tree.

“You smell amazing,” Pidge murmured.

“I think that’s the cocoa butter.”

“The what?”

Allura shook her head and held Pidge close. “I’ll show you later. Please don’t stop.”

“I want to do something different.”

Allura met her eyes. “I’m all ears. What?”

Pidge exhaled shakily. She remembered the salacious websites and videos that she’d deemed _research_ when her brother accosted her. Her unsteadiness did not go unnoticed, because Allura gently ran her hand up and down her arm.

“Okay—the terminology always struck me as…gross, but I don’t know how else to say it so you can’t judge me.”

Allura chuckled, “We can discuss alternative terminology…?”

“Maybe later,” she blushed. “I want to say it at least once.”

Her thumb flicked on Pidge’s elbow. “By all means.”

Pidge closed her eyes and visualized her target. She faced Allura—beautiful, easily reclined, vaguely amused and considerate and patient Allura—and requested, “I want to eat you out.”

Allura’s face cracked into a smile that was half tooth half gums. This was one of her unrestrained ones, but she was embarrassed too: “Okay,” she squeaked. She moved to take off her panties.

Pidge grasped her hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want to do it.”

Allura smiled shy and placed her hands on her chest above her naked breast. Pidge lurched forward to kiss her sore areola, and then her waiting wet lips. She sat between Allura’s legs.

What might they look like from the outside? Pidge in her crop-top and panties, Allura shirtless and with her legs spread. Might it be thought of as harmless mutual exploration? Since she came to this island she knew that Matt had to be more careful that she did when hunting beaus. Girls could walk down the road holding hands and kissing one another on the cheek and he disregarded as good friends. But if Matt were to sit within three inches of his good friend, he’d be labeled a sexual deviant and a threat to all men.

She spread her hands down the easy glide of Allura’s broad thighs. She bit her bottom lip. “I want to say you’re beautiful again but at the same time I don’t want the word to lose its meaning.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Allura mumbled from behind her breasts. “I can feel it.”

Pidge pinked and was afraid to meet her eyes. “I’m going to take it off now.”

Allura lifted her hips in reply.

The panties came off easily. Pidge’s heart was in her throat as she pinched each side and pulled. It stretched around the full of her buttocks, and Pidge felt her pulse quicken when she glimpsed the instep beside her hipbone directly beside her mount of Venus, a slice of innocuous skin now erotic because it was usually censored.

Allura’s panties were at her knees and she relaxed her hips and belly. “Uhm,” she warbled, “should I shave?”

“What?” Pidge jerked her eyes up to hers. “Why?”

“Well. It’s not exactly pleasant putting your mouth on _hair,_ now is it?”

“I never thought about it.” She pulled her panties down to her ankles. “I’ll tell you after.”

Allura nibbled on her forefingers. “If you want to stop—”

“Why are you so shy suddenly? It’s unlike you.”

Allura gasped, but Pidge’s smile was teasing. The middle finger on her left hand was circling Allura’s knee and it reminded them both of the buffering circle when something’s loading on the computer.

Allura stuttered, “What should I do?”

“Relax.”

Allura tipped her head back. She jumped at the kiss to the inside of her knee and the inside of her thighs, that had never known kisses before today. Her body was elevated due to the novelty, but her heart was flying because of Pidge’s sincerity. Each line she drew with her nails in Allura’s skin felt like a line of fractal patterns. Or perhaps that was just her nerve endings lighting up at the faintest embrace?

Pidge kissed her mound and Allura felt as squeamish as she felt warm and caressed. She whimpered and was properly embarrassed: a lady doesn’t _whimper!_

(Allura was sure that her headmaster would report that a lady doesn’t receive cunnilingus either.)

Pidge was exploring, which was fine. She at first only kissed Allura’s mound and labia, cautious to do no more than press her lips to the hair and skin she found there. Allura, who had never had anyone touch her there before, quivered from the unpredictability of it. She was afraid to look as well but when she did she melted a little: Pidge’s face was tucked against her most intimate place and it augmented the sensation and hundred fold. Suddenly she could feel each lick of hair from Pidge’s head tickling the insides of her thighs, and the brush of her cheek on the seam where thigh met groin.

Pidge’s cat-yellow eyes flickered up. “Okay?” she whispered.

Allura pet her. Her breath faltered, “Mm-hmm.”

Whatever expression she wore Pidge softened because of it and stuck out her tongue. Her tongue rasped up, flicking off Allura’s clit brilliantly. Allura wasn’t aware how _hungry_ she was until that moment. She hastily hid her shriek behind her mouth. She felt something trickle down her perineum.

Pidge kissed each thigh and each labia before she did it again and again. Allura grew accustomed to the stimulation gradually but she still writhed, especially on a new stroke or shape that hit her clitoris from a new angle. Pidge was creative too: every so often she left the clit alone to suckle hickies into less sensitive flesh before returning to attack it again. Her hot mouth was a balm and chaos each time.

Allura’s knees quivered. She was on her toes. Pidge grasped each hip and held her close. Her eyes only flicked upwards to check in, and she enjoyed what she saw each time.

Then she laved slowly and Allura hiccuped and her hips fell to the bed. Her arousal stayed vibrant and unfinished in her belly but this was an interval to breathe in. She decided to praise Pidge: “That was spectacular.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve never done this before?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Keep doing it.”

They giggled breathlessly.

Pidge stroked her legs, “Can I finger you too?”

“Yes,” Allura parted her knees. “May I—will you bring me to completion, please?”

“Can I? Like this?”

“You almost already did.”

Pidge’s eyes widened like this was news to her.

“It’s just, if I tell you right there, whatever you’re doing at that moment in time, keep doing it.”

Pidge nodded and pressed a wet kiss to Allura’s belly. When she retreated the skin remained glossy wth slick. “Ready?”

Allura nodded.

Pidge attacked with that articulate tongue again and Allura moaned and slipped her legs apart. Pidge just as quickly yanked them together so that her head was crushed. Allura laughed and abided.

Then her fingers, slim and nimble, tickled at her hole. Allura ached, yearned for a pleasant stretch, and Pidge provided it with two fingers that slowly pumped forward and back in shallow strokes. It all felt good. Allura said so, and Pidge nodded and maintained it.

Then something began to crest in Allura. She grew a little more frantic. Pidge flicked her fingers faster and Allura was grateful: “Keep your tongue there right there…!” Her hand fell on Pidge’s head. She nearly bucked her clean off when she came.

Pidge retreated and admired the wet spot they made on her sheets. Allura’s breasts, glossy from perspiration, jumped in the filtered sunlight. Pidge wiped her mouth. She rubbed Allura’s knee.

“Amazing,” Allura whimpered.

Pidge smiled but felt vulnerable. “Can I hold you?”

Allura yanked her down as reply and kissed her silly.

-

Pidge was nude and resting on Allura’s chest. Their legs were tangled and a pleasant breeze wicked the last of the sweat from their skins. Allura was showing Pidge videos of her favourite comedian on her phone, but all Pidge could see was the delicate bones of Allura’s wrist and how the white textured ceiling framed it.

Allura abruptly kissed her hairline.

Pidge huffed, “What?”

“Bored of me already?”

Pidge shot up: “Never!”

Allura’s eyes were teasing. “It’s alright.” She put the phone on her dresser. Pidge admired her lines as she said, “But be honest with me: are you disappointed?”

Pidge did not understand. “What are you talking about, Lu? Where is this coming from?”

“You’ve been a little…unresponsive,” she said quietly. “I know that I’m your first sexual experience and not everything goes according to plan, and I’ve tried to be accommodating, but perhaps you didn’t enjoy it? You didn’t orgasm, for instance.”

Pidge blinked. That was true, but, “I enjoyed it. I enjoyed…I liked making you feel good. Yeah I didn’t get much from it _physically,_ but it was really satisfying.” She thumped her own chest. “In here, y’know?”

“I see,” Allura smiled but she was unconvinced.

Pidge felt out of place and scrambled for a sense of normalcy. When Allura shifted to recover her phone again, a whiff emanated from her skin and she remembered: “You said that you smell good because of butter? What’s up with that?”

“Wha—oh!” Allura tore off in a peal of laughter. She rose from the bed all muscle and grace and returned with a tub. The ointment inside looked yellowish and cheap but it smelled amazing. Butter was right, its smell had the softness of it, but this came from no cow. “I rub it into my skin,” Allura said. “It’s supposed to help with stretch marks. I’m assuming that my stretch marks would be a lost worse than now without it.”

“How often do you put it on?”

“Everyday, every morning after I shower. Would you like to try it?”

“Sure,” and she sat up and Allura took a big scoop in her hands. Pidge thought of something sexy when she first felt her hands on her, but Allura was disciplined and utilitarian they way she went about grooming Pidge. The flowery, nutty smell blossomed in the room and the silence grew less tense.

Pidge eventually asked, “Do you use this in your hair too?”

Allura was on her back then. “No, I use different oils for my hair. Almond oil is my favourite.”

“What does that smell like?”

Allura disappeared from her back and reappeared with a small vial. Pidge sniffed it. “It’s good!”

Allura giggled and put it aside. Her spine twisted and her tummy doubled up and her thighs went _squish!_ against her pubic hair. “I’ll prepare some for you before you leave,” she said, ignorant of Pidge’s admiration. “I didn’t think you’d like it otherwise I’d have—”

Pidge leaned forward and kissed her. It was a clumsy kiss and over before Allura could get through one stunned blink.

“I don’t regret this,” Pidge blurted the same moment Allura’s lips parted to speak. “I like you and I like that we did this. And I want to do it again.”

Allura watched her a moment. Allura cupped her cheek and kissed the corner of her mouth. She felt Pidge sigh.

“You know,” she purred, “I have a favourite oil for when I’m alone and…”

Pidge pinked. “Sh-show will you show me?”

“Lie down.”

Pidge went. Allura bit back a grin. Pidge maybe would feel self-conscious if she smiled too much. Allura found her adorable though. Not in the patronizing way, not in the way a guy in college would pree a girl in high school, she though Pidge adorable not because facets of her struck one as prepubescent, but rather in _spite_ of that. Pidge was mature and ahead of her years, a little lonely and a little responsible, and it was a treasure that she showed vulnerability in front of Allura.

Allura pulled a glass bottle from her drawer. “Smell.”

Pidge tipped her nose forward to the lips of the bottle obediently. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling in thought. “Is…that olive oil?”

“Yup!”

Pidge laughed. “I thought it would be some special serum or something!”

“Oh, but it is!” Allura sat on her calves and poured a small pool of oil in the flat of her left hand. “And the secret ingredient is _love~!”_

“Pfft, you’re such a dork.”

Pidge’s humor melted to trepidation and ardor when Allura poured the oil into the V shape of her loins. “Keep your thighs together,” Allura instructed softly. She pushed her fingers down through the glide of the oil and the tension of Pidge’s thighs and lips. Pidge pressed her lips together. “Lovely,” Allura praised. She pushed her middle fingers down and up while applying subtle pressure against where Pidge’s clitoris would be, though at the moment shielded by her labia.

Pidge sighed and threw her hands up to grip each side of the pillow beneath her head. Allura marveled at how her blonde hair, pubic and underarm, was almost the same shade as her skin. With her free hand she cupped Pidge’s round cheek. Drowsily, Pidge turned into the hold.

“How does that feel?”

“Mm. Nice. Warm. Like a hug.”

“Mhm? And this?” Allura flexed her middle finger to part Pidge’s folds.

Pidge predictably gasped.

“You like that?”

“Yes—”

Allura rolled her finger in a circular motion. “And this?”

Pidge’s head rolled back, “Yes! Yes!” When her eyes opened they were glassy. “But…”

Allura straightened in alarm. “What?”

“You’re too far away.”

Allura melted. “Move over a little.”

Pidge did, and Allura lay on her side beside her. She put one arm under Pidge’s head to brace on her elbow and hold Pidge’s opposing shoulder, and Pidge lifted one knee to give Allura more room. Her other leg was tangled with both of hers. Pidge turned her head and she met Allura’s loving gaze and hid from it in her breasts, where she promptly took one into her mouth.

Allura’s hold on Pidge’s shoulder was a touch firmer, and her finger spiraled steadily on her clit.

“Mm!” Pidge whimpered. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. This felt far better than when she did it hastily at home under the sheets with an impulse and spit. Allura’s simple touch glided through her body and with simple curls, simple circles, Pidge was becoming undone.

She released Allura’s nipple to moan. Allura kept her hand steady, guessing that Pidge was cresting…

Pidge jerked and Allura drew back. She held Pidge to her and Pidge shuddered through the aftershocks.

“Wow,” she whispered a minute later.

Allura beamed. “I’m happy to hear it,” and she was. She wanted to do more, and she communicated that with the filthiest kiss they’ve tried so far full of tongue and want. Pidge was receptive, but she seemed more comfortable with the lazy kisses they deteriorated into. The sun had set by then.

“Lance will be back soon,” Allura sighed. “We ought to clean up.”

Pidge sighed. “Screw brothers.”

Allura chortled. When she found the discipline to rise, Pidge was not ready to be without her and they stepped into the shower together.

Pidge was smelling like cocoa butter anew and in borrowed clothes when she stood with Allura and Lance in their kitchen learning how to make a family favourite dish. It looked brown and intimidating but the smell was ethereal. Allura was walking Pidge through how to use a pressure cooker and Lance commented while he fried batch after batch after batch of plantain: “Y’all are like newlyweds.”

Pidge jerked, but Allura pulled Pidge to her chest protectively. “She’s taken.”

Lance sneered at her and nothing more was said of it, nor of the arm that Allura kept around Pidge’s shoulders, nor of the fingers she snuck into her hair.

Dinner was delicious and a loud affair. When Alfor returned he brought Coran and his son and daughter with him, and while the fathers did the dishes the kids throttled one another in domino.

Pidge’s skin was still buzzing when she bedded down next to Allura.

“Can’t sleep?” Allura yawned.

“I’m fine,” and she risked a kiss to the corner of Allura’s mouth. How could she express the gratitude for being seen and accepted? Of being welcomed into her family? It seemed so natural to Allura but to Pidge…she kissed Allura again.

Allura smiled sleepily. “Don’t tempt me.”

Pidge smiled mischievously and kissed her again.

-


End file.
